TIFF'D: Sunday, September 12

So I'm completely spent at the moment.  I'm not complaining but all this running around, not eating and not sleeping is somehow draining me.  Crazy.  I was exhausted when I got up this morning.  I slowly made my way over to see Julian Schnabel's MIRAL.  I will be interviewing the director tomorrow and I'm happy to say I enjoyed the film.  It is sensitive and political, an interesting combination for sure.  Up town after that to speak with the fascinating Bjorn Lomberg, the man at the center of one of the festival's more buzzed about documentaries, COOL IT, followed by a great chat with the director, Ondi Timoner.  When I left there, I was going to catch Dustin Lance Black's WHAT'S WRONG WITH VIRGINIA but instead my red carpet request was approved to attend the YOU WILL MEET A TALL DARK STRANGER North American premiere.  I was instantly freaked out at the prospect of meeting Woody Allen.  When it was over, I ended up not meeting him.  I almost didn't even see him as he was ushered into the theatre.  I'm not sure he was even taking questions really.  What has he not already been asked anyway.  I almost got to speak with Josh Brolin and Freida Pinto but they too were whisked into the theatre before reaching me.  I did however get to speak with Sir Anthony Hopkins.  He described working with Allen as the highlight of his life.  He was thrilled to work with him apparently and describes him as delightful.  He was a pleasure to speak with.

It was still lovely to be a few feet away from an icon like Woody Allen.  I had one wish for this festival and that was to meet Woody Allen.  Seeing him pass by me and hearing his voice trail off as he entered the theatre is still pretty darn good.

Be sure to come back tomorrow for Black Sheep's review of the Ryan Reynolds vehicle, BURIED.

Oh, by the way, the videos are still not working.  I'm not sure they will make it back during the festival.  I will keep trying though.

TIFF Review: YOU WILL MEET A TALL DARK STRANGER

Written and Directed by Woody Allen

Starring Josh Brolin, Naomi Watts, Antonio Banderas, Anthony Hopkins and Freida Pinto

Helena: I will not be alone. I will find love. I can rest assured.

If you’re watching an ensemble comedy where one man can’t stop obsessing about his attractive neighbour, where his wife can’t control her lust for her new boss, and where her father meanwhile won’t accept his looming death, trading in his wife of 30 years for a younger model, sending said former wife into the reassuring arms of a psychic, there’s a good chance you’re watching a Woody Allen film. There is a familiarity about Allen’s latest, YOU WILL MEET A TALL DARK STRANGER, that makes you feel instantly at home and keeps you comfortable throughout. The trouble with comfort though is that it doesn’t really bring anything we haven’t seen already, begging the question, why are we here yet again?

Comfort is ordinarily the enemy in an Allen movie. After all, if you’ve reached a place in your life or relationship where you actually feel comfortable, then there must be something terribly wrong. That said, how often do you meet Allen characters whose lives are all settled and lovely? The case here is no different. Set in London, every major character in this premise is at a place in their lives where they each feel unfulfilled and is longing for that next big something that will enter their lives and give them what they’ve always longed for – happiness. This being a Woody Allen film, I would not hold my breath if I were them. Still, Allen almost seems to be delighting in toying with them and his delight is certainly infectious. He may be exploring the same issues he has been for years now but in all fairness, these are the same issues most of us grapple with for all of our lives too. It doesn’t seem right to chastise Allen for not having understood love after so long. It’s not like I do either.

Allen opens and closes YOU WILL MEET A TALL DARK STRANGER with the same rendition of “When You Wish Upon a Star”. He may be allowing all of the little extensions of himself run amok with their fictional lives on screen but he almost seems to be suggesting that all of their issues stem from a desire for something more, that inherently negates what they all already have. Even the title itself promises that one day our wishes will be fulfilled but it also implies simultaneously that they can’t be right now as we have yet to meet this stranger. Perhaps it would be better if we got to know the strangers that are already in our lives; perhaps then we could want them there all the time instead of just when we’re at our best or worst. Maybe if we did, we might be finally able to get comfortable ourselves.

The Many Faces of Anthony Hopkins

The Wolfman's Got Nards!

Following the production of The Wolfman over the past couple of years here in the Vault has been quite the rollercoaster ride! Yet, through it all, I maintained my interest in the project, even if my enthusiasm waxed and waned with the news of each new melodramatic behind-the-scenes twist and turn. The anticipation inspired me to do a whole history of werewolf movies, not to mention to review the classic original.

And so, once the thing finally hit theaters last weekend, you know I had to proceed to my local cineplex (my horror Jedi Master dad in tow) and check it out for myself. And in the end, I can honestly say I'm glad I didn't let all the drama drive me away. Because I rather enjoyed the picture, and had quite a bit of fun with it.

Maybe it was the lowered expectations, I'm not sure. But in general, I couldn't help but feel that the slant of the consensus of reviews for this movie toward the mediocre is a but unearned. Yes, it is a flawed film, and no, it will never replace the superior Universal original. Yet I may be too easygoing, but I think people have been a bit too hard on it.

Surely, it is a mixed bag. First and foremost amongst the weaknesses is Benicio Del Toro himself, surprisingly enough. Lon Chaney Jr. would never be confused with Sir John Geilgud, but nevertheless, his performance was rich with pathos and earnestness. Del Toro, usually excellent, seems to sleepwalk through his role. He never makes you really pity him, and seems like he has to continually remind himself to be upset.

Then there's the whole CGI dilemma. The transformation scenes are not as impressive as they should be--and in fact, I would say Rick Baker's practical work 30 years ago in American Werewolf in London is far more effective. For that matter, and some may disagree, but despite the rather quaint (by today's standards) transformation effects of the 1941 original, I found that the transformation scenes in the original carried more weight and were filled with more dread than the computerized mess we get here. The scenes are poorly shot, and don't really convey the horror of what's going on sufficiently.

Indeed, I don't know if this was because I knew a bit about the intrigue that went on getting this movie to the screen, but it felt a bit overly tampered with, as if the editing was somehow a bit uneven and off at times.

But despite these flaws, I found it to be pretty enjoyable. It possesses what a lot of horror in the early 21st century is missing: Fun.

Let me make this clear: I do not consider the original film to be an untouchable sacred cow. Although it's terrific, it's certainly inferior to most of the Universal films of the 1930s. This is partly why I took no issue with it being remade. And I found it very interesting what screenwriters Andrew Kevin Walker & David Self and director Joe Johnston tried to do here to distinguish it from its formidable forerunner.

What I quite enjoyed was that they tried to do something different, but in a way few remakes ever do. On the one hand, it doesn't slavishly ape the original; but it also doesn't piss all over the original's legacy. It manages to pay homage, yet take the story and characters in some fascinating directions. I'm going to get a bit spoilery in discussing these, so you squeamish types should head for the proverbial hills...

.........

As much as it bothered me when I first learned about it, having Sir John Talbot as the "original" werewolf--indeed transforming him into the heavy of the story--was pretty ingenious. I was a bit uncomfortable with Anthony Hopkins stepping into Claude Rains' shoes, not because he isn't a fine actor, but because in my opinion, he has a tendency toward scenery-chewing (see that other Universal re-imagining, Bram Stoker's Dracula) that is the total opposite of Rains' classy restraint. Rains also a brought a fatherly austerity that is lost amidst Hopkins' seedy characterization.

Nevertheless, as the movie went along, I came to embrace this. For it is the change in the Sir John character that eventually got me the most interested in the story. It changes the entire dynamic of the picture, specifically altering the father-son relationship completely. It also allows for a completely bad-ass werewolf vs. werewolf royal rumble at the climax that is a reminder of how much fun monster movies can be.

And make no mistake, this is a monster movie, first and foremost--and I say that as a compliment. Aside from the awkward CGI metamorphosis stuff, the actual practical makeup itself, done by the aforementioned maestro Baker--is spot-on, a fantastic updating/tribute to the iconic Jack Pierce design. I'm glad they decided to keep the character as a humanoid "wolf man" rather than make it a post-AWIL lupine werewolf. I'm all for bringing back clothes-wearing werewolves!

There are other very cool nods to the original here for those who are looking for them. The infamous wolf's head walking stick; the wolfsbane rhyme; Geraldine Chaplin filling Marya Ospenskaya's shoes as the gypsy fortune teller; that deliciously atmospheric chase scene in the woods, almost identically lit; a brief scene in Gwen's boutique; even a lingering closeup on Hopkins' face in mid-transformation that looks for all the world like a CGI version of Lon Chaney's time-lapse metamorphoses.

Aside from some shoddy editing, the film itself is shot quite nicely, with a cold and bleak look and feel provided by cinematographer Shelly Johnson and production designer Rick Heinrichs. The latter in particular was also responsible for Tim Burton's Sleepy Hollow, which might be a big part of why the look of this film was reminiscent at times of that underrated Burton delight.

Now let's talk violence. I may be getting squeamish in my old age, but this flick had a surprising amount of graphic gore, particularly for a slick, big-budget, mainstream horror production. Hell, this movie had stuff in it I would've liked to have seen from the last two George Romero movies, but didn't. There are slashings galore, dismembered and quivering limbs, impalements, eviscerations, and more. As I mentioned the other night in the Vaultcast, we see the Wolf Man actually pull out a guy's liver with his teeth. It's some pretty bold stuff for a Hollywood horror movie in 2010, that's for sure.

Joe Johnston was a replacement director, dumped into the project in mid-production after the ousting of Mark Romanek. Thanks to the internet, this all became public knowledge, and I think it unfairly biased many toward Johnston. A once-promising young genre director who made a splash early on with the likes of Honey, I Shrunk the Kids and one of the most underrated summer movies of all time, The Rocketeer, he later sort of lost his way, stepping into Steven Speilberg's intimidated shoes for Jurassic Park III and mounting the 2004 bomb Hidalgo. Yet for my money, he does the best he could here with a project he inherited--and to tell you the truth, I'm not convinced that music video helmsman Romanek could've done all that better.

The Wolfman is an imperfect remake of a classic monster movie, that nevertheless provides some good popcorn-munching fun for those not looking for anything too earth-shattering. Less stylish and confident than Coppola's Dracula, loads more fun than Branagh's pretentious Frankenstein--and infinitely better than Sommer's Mummy.

The only thing that could've made it even more fun would've been if the climax had taken place here:

THE WOLFMAN

Written by Andrew Kevin Walker and David Self
Directed by Joe Johnston
Starring Benicio Del Toro, Anthony Hopkins, Emily Blunt and Hugo Weaving


Sir John Talbot: Never look back, son. The past is a wilderness of horror.

Theoretically, I would welcome any monster movie these days that wasn’t about vampires and that also wasn’t geared towards teenage girls. When that alternative is THE WOLFMAN though, a remake of the 1941 George Waggner film, I find myself longing to have every drop of blood sucked from my body instead.


THE WOLFMAN is a bit of a pet project (pun as fully intended as the moon that brings out the beast) for star, Benicio Del Toro, as he also serves as co-producer. I suppose he saw the appeal as a potential blockbuster that would make the Oscar winner more of a household name. The possibility was certainly there but he also should have considered whether a decent script was there as well. Del Toro plays Lawrence Talbot, a British-born, successful actor (I can hardly buy Del Toro as American, let alone a British-born American), who was exiled to the United States as a child by his father after a particularly traumatic family tragedy. He has only returned home now because his brother has gone missing.

The search for his brother leads Lawrence and the rest of this small, late 19th-century town to the discovery of The Wolfman. That discovery leads to Lawrence being bit by the beast and subsequently succumbing to the curse that comes with. The townsfolk are baffled by the atrocities inflicted by the beast upon the innocents because they have never seen anything like this before. This makes sense to me. What doesn’t is how they all seem to be familiar with Wolfman lore, like how silver bullets are required to kill him or how he only comes out when the moon is full. If this is where the legend begins, how would they even stumble upon these conclusions, let alone know them outright?


Man and beast and the differences or lack thereof between the two is a central Wolfman theme. Modernizing the tale though does not bring any new insight on the pairing. In fact, it almost seems too simplistic to still be considered revealing about human nature. Yes, man continues to struggle with its own animal instincts but these primal urges are all for show in THE WOLFMAN. The tale was clearly only updated to present it with visual effects that would do the gore justice rather than reinvigorate it with relevance. And as there aren’t that many fight sequences (waiting for lunar cycles to pass before seeing the title character reappear does not make for a great deal of suspense), even that purpose seems like an after thought.

Watching THE WOLFMAN means watching a lot more than just innocent people dying gruesome deaths on screen; it also means watching the combined talent of the ensemble cast being torn to shreds. Anthony Hopkins, as Lawrence’s father, is a kooky old man who has lost his own plot, let alone the even thinner plot of this film. Emily Blunt is as lovely as always but reduced to nonsensical character development. And Del Toro, aside from his baffling accent, is never strong enough to be considered manly or fierce enough to be seen as beastly. Fortunately, Hugo Weaving is on hand as the inspector assigned to the case. Weaving brings that special brand of bland that, if we’re all very lucky and this film does find a sizable audience, we will all get to see again in the sequel.


I have not seen the original so I cannot fairly compare but I can say that I expect THE WOLFMAN to be about raw aggression that cannot help but be let out on an unsuspecting public. Director, Joe Johnston’s take is decidedly different, focusing more on daddy issues and about finding the right woman to tame the beast. With such insipid back story, I’d say the beast in question has already been domesticated.

Hannibal Lecter Meets the Wolf Man

In some very encouraging news regarding an upcoming project I've been following with great interest, Sir Anthony Hopkins has signed to play the role of Sir John Talbot, father to the lycanthropic Larry Talbot, in Universal's remake of The Wolf Man.
Hopkins himself confirmed the rampant rumors during an interview for his new film Slipstream, indicating that he would be taking on the part made famous by Claude Rains in the 1942 original. He will be playing alongside fellow Oscar-winner Benicio Del Toro, who has the starring role.
As a die-hard Universal horror fan, I'm very excited about this project, and Hopkins' involvement makes it all the more interesting. While I have my reservations as to whether Del Toro can evoke the childlike innocent Lon Chaney Jr. did in the original, there's no doubt Sir Anthony is a worthy successor to the legendary Rains.

BOBBY

Written and directed by Emilio Estevez


Can’t you imagine it? Frazzled, sitting around in a housecoat at a motel outside of Los Angeles, writer/director/actor, Emilio Estevez, puts out his cigarette and picks up the phone.

“Can I get an outside line?” Moments later, he dials the number and swallows nervously while he waits for her to pick up.

Finally, the phone is answered but it isn’t her. “Whadup,” says the man’s voice on the other end of the line.

“Uh, hi. Is, uh, is Demi around?”

“Yeah, hold up.” He drops the phone clumsily to the floor. The sound of his bellowing can be heard getting more faint as he walks further away from the dangling telephone. “Baaaaaaabe! Phone!”

Emilio is waiting. This isn’t unusual, he thinks to himself. We’ve had some good times. There’s no reason why I should be nervous. He hears the phone being handled.

“Hello?”

There’s the voice he’s been waiting to hear. “Demi, hi. It’s Emilio.”

“Rodriguez?”

“No. No, it’s Emilio Estevez.”

“Jesus! Emilio! How the hell are you?” She doesn’t wait for him to answer. “What has it been already?” Again, she doesn’t wait. “I heard you moved to some motel to become a hermit or something.”

“Well, not exactly. I am at a hotel but I’m writing.”

“Writing? Wow. That’s … Wow. God, you haven’t written a movie since ‘Men at Work’.”

“Yeah, I know. This one’s different though, better, much. I’m writing a movie about the Ambassador Hotel, on the day that Bobby Kennedy was shot.”

“Uh-huh.”

He was hoping for a little more but this would have to do. “I’m having a bit of a hard time getting the money together to make it though.”

“Oh, honey, I’m not looking for a project to invest in right now.”

“No, no. I’m not asking you for any money. There’s a part I thought you might like. And I figured if I get enough people on board, the funding might come a little easier.”

“A part? Hmmm. Well, who else is doin’ it?”

“A few people. Heather Graham, Bill Macy, Helen Hunt, Larry Fishburn, Sharon Stone.”

“Wow. Anybody else?” He could tell she was coming around.

“Uh, yeah. Tony Hopkins, Christian Slater, Dad.”

“Aw, I love your father. What’s the part?” He knew he could tell her almost anything now. It didn’t matter. He had her.



“You would play Virginia Fallon. She’s a popular singer who frequently plays the hotel. She’s a total drunk too.” He hesitates for a moment. “And she’s concerned that the public doesn’t really care so much for her anymore, y’know, because of her … age.” He waits for it but it’s oddly quiet.

“Ageing, hmmm.” Suddenly, All Emilio could hear were the teenagers hitting the ice machine down the hall. Then, she finally spoke. “I bet you I could get an Oscar out of this. An actress not afraid to play her age, or at least close to it. And a drunk! I’m as good as there!”

“Yeah! There’s this great scene between you and Sharon. She is going to play the hotel stylist. She’s doing your hair and your nails. You’re drunk. She’s tired. And the two of you just talk about how nobody wants you when you’re a woman of a certain age.”

“Yeah, that sounds great but I have the better lines, right? I would hate to see her walk away with my nod.”

“Demi, please. You know she’s got nothing on you.” He didn’t know he could be such a convincing liar. Even more so in retrospect, given that Stone is the only actor featured in BOBBY to be getting any Oscar attention.

“Aw, Emilio, thanks. I’ll have to check my schedule but I should be good. So, what’s the whole thing about?” she asks after the fact.

“Well, it’s really about the death of all the necessary social and political change that Bobby represented. The last 15 minutes are gonna have everybody ballin’ their eyes out. Bobby gives his speech at the hotel and then gets shot in the kitchen. People won’t know what hit ‘em. I mean, they’ll know it’s coming but it’s still gonna be rough.”

The level of excitement in his voice is like that of a young boy. Demi is familiar with this enthusiasm. She is also wise enough to know to scale it back. “Ok but what about the hour and half that comes before the end? What happens there?”

Emilio snaps out of his zone. “Well, stuff obviously.” He hears the defensive tone in his voice. “I mean, there are so many people in this movie and so many hotel guests. It’s got so many possibilities for different things going on.”

“Alright, that’s interesting. It’s got an Altman-esque quality to it. And I guess all the different stories somehow connect with each other or have some deeper level of significance. It will be an indirect criticism on today’s society, right?”

He had not thought about bridging the divide between the centuries for his wide variety of characters. He always thought Kennedy himself would take care of that. Having the cast involved in topical and symbolic plots complicates things. Having them involved in more random, dramatic situations was a lot easier. When he thought of tying everything together in other ways than just through Kennedy’s assassination, it made him feel that his script might be weak. He didn’t like to think about that. He also didn’t want to admit it.

“Of course. Plus I managed to sign that Lindsay Lohan everyone talks about and that guy who played Frodo. There will be so many faces in this film, people won’t know where to look. And I’m planning all this moving camera aesthetic. People will be so dizzy, a good dizzy of course. And there are the costumes! I’m thinking big hair for you.”

“God, I love big hair." You could hear her smile through the phone. "Alright, I’ll have my agent call you, on one condition.”

“Name it. I really want you in this.”

“Can you put Ashton in the picture? I need to separate him from his PS3 for a while. Y’know, give the kids a chance to play.”

“I need a stoner drug dealer part filled still. Do you think he can do that?”

“Yes, I think a stoner would be fine,” she said flatly.

“Great, than it’s settled. One last thing … Do you think you could give Bruce a call?”

“Don’t push it, Emilio.”

The call now made, Emilio sits back down to the blank page in his typewriter and stares out the window.

PROOF

Written by David Auburn
Directed by John Madden

What are we trying to prove?
Who are we trying to impress?
Why am I always looking for answers?

“Proof” answers all three of these questions in its first thirty seconds as Catharine (Gwyneth Paltrow) stares blankly at the television, her 27th birthday having just begun. She flips through channel after meaningless channel, settles on nothing and turns to look directly into the camera. Her eyes staring directly at me say, “Nothing, no one and it doesn’t matter.” Of course she’s disastrously unhappy but when did that stop anyone from pretending like they knew all the answers? Oops, I asked another question.

When the sun rises, she will celebrate both her birthday and the burial of her father (played by Anthony Hopkins), a mathematical genius who drastically changed his field three times before losing his mind. Before the day is out, her sister (Hope Davis) will fly in almost solely to push her further into her hole and she will take a chance on life by allowing a young man (Jake Gyllenhaal) to hold her through all of the crazy mess. The events of the day will give her the courage to share her own mathematical findings, her own proof. Now she’s really got something to prove because it isn’t clear she’s the proof’s genuine author.

A mathematical proof, one that checks out, shows that there is order in the world, that there are definitive answers. If Catharine wrote it, than she’s got plenty to prove. And whom does she need to prove this to? Her sister who spends all of her time completing mundane tasks from her meticulous “to-do” list to show that she is functional, structured, successful? Her boyfriend who’s got to get Catharine’s proof checked by the guys at the math department because he obviously doesn’t believe that girls can do math? To her father who was thrilled his daughter’s interests followed his own but only really wanted her to work along side him? And what of herself? If she proves that she wrote this proof, that she has the talent, the ability, the genius that may very well surpass her father’s, how long will it be until she begins to lose her mind? Does she want to know the answer to that last question?

Catharine ponders aloud that sometimes everything makes sense in her head and other times, it all seems crazy. Perhaps we don’t always need proof to say which of these realities is the true reality. Perhaps a little blind faith would do us some good.